


I Been Thinking ('Bout Your Touch)

by neverthelessthesun



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Affection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Forehead Touching, Hugs, Idiots in Love, Implied Past Abuse (not stony), Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Old-Fashioned Steve Rogers, Panic Attacks, Schmoop, Short & Sweet, Soulmates, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Touch-Starved, and he gets one, mentioned: alcohol, short tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 18:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthelessthesun/pseuds/neverthelessthesun
Summary: They shake hands, after the battle of New York. That is the moment, the fatal mistake that keeps Tony awake at night. If he had just kept the gauntlet on, if he had sent Cap a peace sign instead of reaching for his hand—well. Things would have been different.Because they haven’t touched since then, and really, that’s all Tony needs to know.





	I Been Thinking ('Bout Your Touch)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, and thanks for clicking! 
> 
> The title and inspiration for this ficlet come from "Crush" by Tessa Violet. Listen [here](https://youtu.be/SiAuAJBZuGs). 
> 
> Check the end notes for potential trigger info, as per usual.
> 
> Un-beta'd, all mistakes are accidental. 
> 
> Enjoy!

They shake hands, after the battle of New York. That is the moment, the fatal mistake that keeps Tony awake at night. If he had just kept the gauntlet on, if he had sent Cap a peace sign instead of reaching for his hand—well. Things would have been different.

Because they haven’t touched since then, and really, that’s all Tony needs to know.

Soulmates aren’t as rare, these days. More people travel, both in their own country and to others, so it stands to reason that they meet more people over the course of their life. One touch is all it takes, skin to skin. Then you know. Less than half of people ever find their soulmate, and most are just fine without one. 

Tony has lived without any soulmate for forty years. Why should he be bothered now that he knows who his soulmate is, and they don’t want him?

Tony knows instantly—some people say it feels like fireworks, but for Tony, it feels like a balm, like aloe on sunburned skin. He immediately jolts back, away from the feeling. He tells himself it’s because now isn’t the the time to deal with it, they need to clean up and help survivors—but his heart pounds a staccato beat against the reactor, fast with anxiety.

Steve doesn’t appear to react at all—maybe his face falls a little, and boy, _that_ stings. But Tony soldiers on. They have work to do, and he can’t waste time worrying about how Steve might react to being stuck with Tony as his other half.

Since _The Moment_ (and Tony can’t help capitalizing it in his head) he’s been more jittery than usual. He’s hyper-aware of Steve, of where he is and who he is with. He feels more and more like he should be sharing meals with someone, like he should tell someone the funny things DUM-E did that day, like he is missing out on pieces of someone else’s life.

Tony has felt lonely before, sure. But this? This is different. This is a whole new level. 

Steve wanders down to the workshop a few times that first week. He seems curious, but he doesn’t bring up the soulmate thing, so neither does Tony. He answers Steve’s questions about the bots, about JARVIS and his new holographic displays. If Tony’s replies are stilted, well. That’s just because he’s trying not to let himself think about curling up next to Steve’s breastbone and breathing him in. It’s taxing, even for Tony’s brilliant multi-tasking skills.

A few times, Steve makes aborted movements towards him, as if he was going to pat Tony heartily on the back, or even touch his hair, maybe. Every time he stops himself before he does, and Tony holds his breath so Steve won’t hear his whine of rejection. 

After a few days, Steve stops coming. Half his mind breathes a sigh of relief, while the other half wants to scream in frustration.

Weeks pass, and his insides want to claw out of his throat every time he sees Steve. He wants to talk to him, wants to touch him again, but Steve only smiles and says good morning, then turns back to his (actual, physical newsprint) paper. So Tony grunts a “morning,” back at him, and snags his coffee out of the kitchen as fast as he can, before he does something stupid.

Tony figures that, if Steve wanted to do anything about it, he would have by now. That means it’s up to Tony to fix their situation, because God knows he can’t maintain this. He’ll break into pieces if Steve forces him to take his smiles and his small talk and his _presence_ without falling to his knees and confessing his undying love, or something equally ridiculous. 

The morning of day twenty-one, Tony shuffles into the communal kitchen to find Steve sitting at the breakfast bar. He looks tired, maybe, but it’s not like Tony can talk—he’s been getting only a few hours a night himself. Nightmares, yes. But every time he wakes in the middle of the night, his bed feels so empty and cold that he can hardly stand it. 

“Morning,” he grunts like usual, and downs half of his coffee in four gulps.

“Good morning, Tony,” Steve replies. He smiles like the sun just came out, and Tony has a hard time looking at it. He stares down into his coffee cup and stands awkwardly to the side.

“I, ah,” Tony starts. He has to swallow to clear the lump in his throat. “I’m heading to Tokyo this afternoon. SI business. Just thought you should know I’ll be unavailable for a while.”

Steve shifts, but Tony refuses to let himself look up and check Steve’s expression. “How long will you be gone?”

“Oh, you know. A few weeks, probably.” Six was a few, right?

“Weeks?”

“It’s the big convention for AI and innovative technology. I’m going ahead of my team, making some connections. Schmoozing. It’s hard work, drinking other people’s booze, but hey, somebody’s gotta do it.”

Steve sets his paper down. “Weeks, Tony. I thought—I mean, aren’t we...doing something here? Building a relationship?”

Tony shrugs, and ignores the beat his heart skipped at the word relationship. “The Avengers will be fine without me. You’ve got Thor back from Asgard, so you’ll have air support. I don’t think that you’ll need me, unless the world ends again.”

Steve reaches over, like he’s going to set his hand on Tony’s arm, but Tony flinches back. Steve freezes, lowers his hand, and Tony can’t help meeting his eyes then. He sees confusion, worry, and something deeper. Something more sad.

“Not the Avengers, Tony. Us. You and me.”

The words send Tony’s mind reeling. “What? No. You—you don’t want that. And it’s fine, I get it, I would be disappointed in me, too. No pressure. But, ah. I think it’s best if I take some time off. Not because of—of you, or anything, I just. Need some time.”

Through this rambling speech, the divot between Steve’s eyebrows has gotten deeper and more pronounced. “You think I don’t want you,” he says. 

“It’s fine. I’ll just—remove myself from the equation for a little bit. Until everything settles, you know. I’ll be able to handle it—not that I haven’t been, I’ve been fine. I mean, you’re fine, so I’m fine, I just—”

Steve cuts him off by standing and pulling Tony into a hug. The touch is so unexpected, and it sends tingles spider-webbing under his skin, and he can’t help but sigh and lean into it. It feels amazing, like he’d just been dunked in cool water after a month in the direct sun. 

Steve is nuzzling into the crook of his neck, his hands rubbing soothing circles on Tony’s back. “Tony,” he breathed. “Oh, Tony. That’s not it at all.” Tony is too busy hugging back for a few moments to register Steve’s words, but Steve isn’t stopping. 

“When we touched the first time, you pulled back so quickly. Then, in the workshop, you flinched away every time I reached for you, like you weren’t ready to...to do this. So I gave you space. You were so busy, We were all busy with the aftermath of the fight, and it made sense—I thought you needed some time. I was waiting for you to come to me, to be ready. I should have said something.”

All this was said against Tony’s skin, soft as a prayer. Steve’s hands on his back were so gentle, like Tony was something precious. Steve smelled like Irish Spring soap and aftershave, and the skin of his neck was warm and smooth against Tony’s face. 

“You, you,” Tony stuttered helplessly. He clung to Steve, unable to make his hands let go where they were clenched on the back of Steve’s button-down.

“I never meant to make you think—Lord, Tony. I’m not disappointed at all. You’re the smartest man of your generation, maybe of the century, and you fought by my side to save the world. You have so many amazing ideas about how to improve the world, too. You take such good care of us here, and you work so hard to help others. Not to mention you’re, well. You’re beautiful.” Tony could feel the blush heating Steve’s skin beneath his cheek. 

Tony finally had the frame of mind to pull back enough to meet Steve’s eyes, but he couldn’t find it in himself to let go completely. “You’re serious, right now,” He confirmed, “You’re not—don’t mess with me on this, Steve, I can’t—”

“No, shh,” Steve sushes. “Don’t even think it. You are my soulmate, Tony. I _want_ you. I want to get to know you, and learn what your favorite foods are, and play with your bots and cuddle and just be with you. And maybe, um. I mean, it’s obvious that people have—hurt you in the past. With touch. So I don’t want to pressure you into something that makes you feel vulnerable, but. I’d like to kiss you?”

Tony barely waits for Steve to finish saying the words before he pushes up on his tiptoes and presses his chapped lips to Steve’s. He takes him by surprise, but Steve melts into the kiss easily. It stays chaste, warm and sweet, until Steve draws back to lean his forehead against Tony’s. If his smile before had been like the sun, this one is a supernova.

“You’re real,” Tony insists. “Right? This is real.”

“I’m real,” Steve reassures him. “I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”

Tony barks out a laugh, suddenly realizing he’s shaking. “I need,” he starts, but Steve is already guiding him to the living room, where he sits them both down on the couch. He hasn’t stopped touching Tony.

“I want you, too,” Tony manages, like it just occurred to him. “I want you so bad I can’t breathe sometimes. I can’t think around you. Even before I knew, you made me crazy.” This was met with a wry grin.

“Shh, Just take a deep breath.” And, wow, Tony _is_ hyperventilating. When did that start happening? He breathes deeper, in through his nose. Steve’s broad hand on his back helps.

When Tony has calmed down enough, he burrows back into Steve’s side. “I’m never letting you go, you know,” he warns, prodding a finger at Steve’s (rock hard) abs in punctuation. 

“Don’t you have to go to Tokyo?”

Tony huffs. “Not really, not until next week. And only for a few days. I could skip, if I wanted. Pepper would only half-kill me. It would be worth it.”

Steve presses his nose into Tony’s hair, and Tony can feel his smile. 

They stay like that until Bruce wanders in a half hour later and calls out, “They finally got their act together!” His announcement is met by a chorus of “Finally!” from the kitchen. Tony has to move then, so he can throw a pillow at Bruce’s retreating head.

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Tony flinches from casual touches and Steve implies that his behavior makes it seem like he might have been physically abused in the past. Tony begins to shake and hyperventilate at one point, but Steve helps him through before it becomes a full-blown panic attack. Alcohol is mentioned once.
> 
>  
> 
> Please please leave me a comment! I am so encouraged by them!
> 
> I got back on [Tumblr](https://nvrthlessthsun.tumblr.com/) because I have no impulse control so follow me or w/e.


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